Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)
This is the Doctrine’s contribution to the Six Sentence Story bloghop.
Hosted by Denise, constrained by a sentence limit (high and low) of six, there are worse ways to spend the remaining time you have on earth.
Prompt word:
GROUND
The rolling hills surrounding Eibigen Abbey fled down towards the Rhine River as if to escape the scrutiny of the Mother Superior who stood, tethered to her office by the old-fashioned telephone receiver at her ear. An expanse of glass afforded her the freedom to marvel at the wonders of Nature, from the expression on her face she was in no mood to appreciate the Creator’s handiwork.
“By all the Saints above, I’m telling you Sister Edeline, she simply disappeared…”
“You don’t know where she is Mister Lymphocytus?”
“As God is my witness, it wasn’t my fault, the lass is all heart and no head, she…
“Did I ask your opinion of Sister Aclima?”
“No, but…”
“Your speciality and purported expertise is guiding those emissaries we send on missions in lands unfamiliar to them; you are being paid a king’s ransom to provide that guidance, not make excuses.”
“She’s gone to ground is all I’m saying; if you want, I’ll return your fee, minus my expenses…
“You would be well-advised to read your contract with the Order, particularly that section describing the penalties for failure and not waste my time because a young woman, one-tenth of your age and from Indiana, is too much for you to manage.”








